


Waiting for You

by momopeachchild



Series: Dragon Age Writings [14]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momopeachchild/pseuds/momopeachchild
Summary: What if Hawke and Anders met ten years ago in the Hawke Family barn in Lothering? What if it took them two damn years to realize it?





	Waiting for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [against_stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/against_stars/gifts).



It was stupid, so very, very stupid. Barns that had live stock in them meant people lived there. People would notice, and they would call the Templar. But Andraste’s  _tits_  he was tired. He needed just some place warm and enclosed to rest, just for a little bit. Maybe if he just buried himself in some of the straw? 

This made his, what tenth escape attempt? Every twig snap, every seemingly out of place movement was probably a Templar, on his ass with his damned phylactery, ready to drag him back to that Maker Damned dungeon. This time he was pretty sure, Chantry law or not, he was going to get made Tranquil. Well maybe shipped some place off and  _then_  made Tranquil. He’d just have to avoid getting caught. 

But first, a nap! A very short nap. 

He opened his eyes and felt his breathing stop when the barn door creaked open. The foot fall sounded too light to be a Templar’s, but he wasn’t going to move if he didn’t have to. And he might have to. Andraste’s knicker weasels they were getting closer! Maybe if he just hid himself deeper in the straw? Yes, and when their back was turned he’d make a break for it. Peering out at the person he could only assumed owned the barn, he was shocked to see it was a young woman. She had rather striking blue eyes and a long braid of dark black hair. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn he was staring at Cossette, but she was back at the tower, and not a mostly mature woman. Yet.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, good. Very, very good. But she was pulling out a very large sword. Maker in his Heavens. And she was cleaning it, great. But she wasn’t paying attention, he could try to slip out. Easing himself up as quietly as he could manage, he tried to slink his way out, but those damned hinges squeaked! The dark haired woman jumped, trying to stand up and raise her sword, but she must have caught the hem of her skirt on something. Down she went, sword cutting into her leg as he stared in horror. Shit! Shit! Shit!  
  
Rushing over, he opened his mouth to say something, and she tried to back away from him, eyes glued to his face.

“I’m sorry! I..I just wanted to rest some place warm,” he apologized, hands reaching out on instinct alone, glowing a warm blue over her injured leg. She moved her gaze down to his hands, and her look softened a little. But only just.

“It’s alright,” she assured, letting him do his work. Reaching for a kerchief in her pocket, she wiped away the blood when he finished and looked at him. “Thank you. You can stay the night, but no longer. The Templars here aren’t as lazy as the ones in the city. They have a shift change just before dawn, and will be in the Chantry to do so.”

He gave a nod and whetted his lips, a thank you ready to be uttered, but she stood and waved a hand.

“And if you manage to get caught, I will personally track you down and end you if you tell them where you stayed. I will help you, but my family comes first.”

And with that she left the barn, and Anders never even got her name. Not even when she returned a short while later with a blanket and some food that would travel easily. She hadn’t offered her name, and he would not offer his. He just hoped she would be relieved to find him gone before the morning sun rose.

                                                                                                            **************

There had been rumors circulating in Dark Town of a striking woman looking for him. She hadn’t come off as a Templar to the people who whispered things to him, and by all accounts she was traveling with two mages and a dwarf. One of the mages looked to be kin of some sort, and she carried a  _very_  large sword.

Still their arrival into his clinic awoke Justice’s protective instincts, and was only slightly shocked when he realized she hadn’t drawn her sword, or even batted an eye. And Maker’s left testicle she wanted to go to the Blighted Deep Roads! Huffing, he offered her a deal. Surprisingly she took it.

As they spoke, something about the woman–Hawke’s face stirred something in his brain, some familiarity that he couldn’t quite place, but he dropped it in favor of hashing out the details of their deal. Watching her go, he had a brief flash of her with long black hair, and realized she bore a striking resemblance to Cossette. That had to be it, right?

Hawke had kept her end of the bargain, and he couldn’t in good conscience, let her go down there on her own. Well she wouldn’t be on her own, but between her small group of friends, he was one of the better choices. Even if that would end in a nightmare, he was one of the better choices to go. He was, after all, already infected with the Blight, who better to go with?

That clusterfuck of an adventure came and went, and Anders stayed with Hawke. The months slowly turned into years, and he had had a few conversations with Hawke’s family. He knew she’d been a refugee, but not that she’d been from Lothering per-say, he had never seemed to be around for that conversation. That was, until Aveline brought it up while they were once again on the Wounded Coast.

“And you really knew the movements of every Templar there?”  
  
“Well not  _every_  Templar. But I knew when they changed shifts, and when to make sure Bethany and my father laid low for a while.”  
  
“So you can observe that, but you can’t notice that your Mabari has managed to come home every day this week with a piece of City Guard Armor?”  
  
“That doesn’t run the risk of hurting my family, Aveline.”

Blinking, he missed a step as he was struck with the feeling that he knew Marian’s face from some time before. His stumbling drew her attention, and she moved over to him, a soft “darling” for him as she touched his arm.

“Nothing, love. I was just remembering one of my escapes. I stopped at a barn in Lothering to sleep.”

Her eyes grew a little wide, mouth opening slightly.

“I..spooked a young woman when she was…sharpening her..sword. She got hurt and never once pulled away from being healed.”

Her face morphed into a sly grin and she gently nudged him with her armored covered knuckle. “You know it left a scar, darling,” she teased, connecting the dots faster than he had. Anders laughed and shook his head, wondering how it was that he never made the connection between the two. 

“Amazing. You two have known each other for two years now, and you  _just_  realized you met years ago?” Varric sounded like he thought they were bullshitting him. But they weren’t, it was clear on their faces they weren't.

“I had other things on my mind two years ago.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you did, Blondie.”

Shaking his head, he watched as his love move to lead the charge again, and he tilted his head slightly as he watched her walk. He hadn’t loved her when they first met, there wasn’t the time to do so, and he hadn’t had the mental capacity to even consider it, but the familiarity of her face, the unconscious reminder of her simple kindness, and her whole hearted acceptance of him into her circle, and later into her heart had sped things along for him. Of that he was certain. God he was a romantic sap, now wasn’t he?


End file.
